Le Requin Strikes
by Red Witch
Summary: An old enemy of Archer's takes the Figgis Agency hostage. This is starting to get predictable.


** The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters has taken off on vacation. Except for this guy I just made up. Just having some weird demented fun here. **

**Le Requin Strikes **

"Dukes…" Ray groaned. His head was fuzzy and he felt stiff.

Then he realized the reason he was stiff was because he was tied up. "God, I **hate** when days start out like this…"

"Tell me about it," Pam groaned. She was also tied up in a chair in the Figgis Agency bullpen along with Cheryl, Cyril and Krieger.

"And of course, Truck-A-Saurus takes today off to be with her stupid baby," Cheryl remarked. "And no Ms. Archer either. Bonus! YAYY!"

"Shut up!" Ray snapped. "Last thing I remember was coming into work. Knockout gas bomb in the bullpen?"

"Yup," Krieger nodded. "Judging by the aftereffects I'd say this particular bomb had some elements of carbon monoxide and a little bit of benzomorphide…And maybe a hint of chamomile?"

"Oh, you noticed," A tall blond man with a scar down his face in an all-black outfit stood before them. He his voice had a French accent. "It's my own personal blend."

Cyril sighed. "Who are you and how much do we owe you?"

"I am Le Requin!" The man snapped. The Figgis Agency looked at him with blank looks on their faces. "French for The Shark? More commonly known as The Deadly Shark? One of Europe's deadliest assassins?"

"Uhhh…." Ray blinked.

"Nope," Krieger shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Me neither," Pam and Cyril said at the same time.

"I have no idea who you are," Cheryl said.

"Considering you have no idea who **you** are half the time…" Ray began.

Requin snapped. "I'm wanted in six countries and by nine different international police and spy agencies! I'm the one who assassinated Sir Limon De Le Greep! Ambassador from Luxembourg to the UN? I blew up that bridge in Sardinia. I was supposed to kill the pope but my contract got cancelled at the last minute by that cardinal."

"Hey, we were involved in a plot to kill the pope!" Pam said.

"Yeah, imagine **that,**" Requin said sarcastically. "That was supposed to be my gig but that asshole cardinal found someone to do it cheaper! That's one of many reasons I'm here to settle a score with Sterling Archer!"

"Of course, you're here for **Archer,**" Cyril groaned. "Every time I think Archer can't screw up my life, he does!"

"Typical isn't it?" Ray groaned. "Nobody here for Ray."

"You want somebody to come in here and kidnap us just to get to _you?_" Pam shouted.

"It would be a refreshing change of pace!" Ray snapped.

"No, I totally get it," Cheryl said. "It's always Archer, Archer, Archer…"

"Like he's the **only one** in the world with enemies," Krieger added.

"Exactly!" Ray snapped.

"Since when do **you** have enemies?" Pam asked.

"Oh, I have enemies," Ray growled.

"Haters on your Instagram account don't count," Pam said.

"Not them!" Ray snapped. "But yeah those guys too… Jealous bitches."

"Typical. Nobody wants to kidnap Cyril," Cyril grumbled.

"Well why **would** they?" Pam snapped.

"I don't see anybody lining up at our door to kidnap **you**!" Ray shot back.

"Yeah!" Cyril shouted.

"Hey I was kidnapped by **Barry!"** Pam snapped. "To get to Archer. Damn it!"

"And you were kidnapped by those terrorists because they thought you were me," Cheryl added. "But yeah nobody wants to kidnap you for you."

"Damn it!" Pam groaned. "That's just so demoralizing."

"That's my point," Ray said.

"Smug bastard would probably love, **love **the fact that we got kidnapped because of him!" Cyril fumed. "God, I hate Archer!"

"He's really starting to piss me off too!" Pam admitted.

"This is going to be one of those weeks isn't it?" Ray sighed. "So much for doing something productive today."

"As opposed to any **other day** around here?" Pam asked.

"Good point," Ray shrugged.

"HEY!" Requin snapped. "Hello? I get that you're all a bit miffed but could you pay attention to **me** for a few minutes?"

"Classic kidnappers complex," Cheryl remarked. "Talk about your desperate cry for attention."

"Hey! I have a legitimate reason for hating Sterling Archer!" Requin snapped.

"Join the club," Cyril remarked.

"Yeah get in line with the rest of us," Ray added.

"Fine let's just get your boring backstory out of the way," Cheryl sighed. "What did Archer do to **you?**"

"Besides what I just told you not even **three minutes ago**?" Requin asked.

"That's about the length of her attention span," Ray said. "Like a goldfish."

"Actually, that's a myth," Cyril said. "Some goldfish can remember up to three months."

"Well mine are longer than **that!**" Requin snapped. "Archer and I have tangled over the years when he was a spy. Are you sure he never mentioned me?"

"Nope," Ray said. "Don't take it too personally. Archer rarely talks about anyone besides himself."

"Unless it's about Burt Reynolds," Pam added. "Or some obscure historical figure. Or movie character."

"Fine," Requin sighed. "Let's just say we've had our skirmishes over the years. The big one though was about six years ago in southern Greece…"

FLASHBACK!

A medieval building that had been converted into a hotel was precariously on the edge of a cliff. In one of the more lavish rooms was an open balcony where Requin was there in black holding a gun on Archer.

Not that Archer seemed to care. He was more interested in the mini bar of the room.

"We meet again Sterling Archer!" Requin snarled. "Archnemesis to archnemesis."

"Yeah whoever you are, can you wait a minute? I'm trying to make a dry martini but all I can find are cocktail onions," Archer remarked as he looked through the room's mini-bar. I mean I can make do with them but still…"

"I'm being serious here!" Requin snarled.

"So am I!" Archer said as he picked up a jar of cocktail onions. "Who stocks a mini-bar and only puts cocktail onions for garnish? That's so wrong. I mean it cuts down on the versatility of drinks."

"Since I am going to cut down your life it doesn't matter!" Requin snarled.

"Honestly I'm not a fan of cocktail onions," Archer mused. "I mean, olives and cherries. Yeah, I get those. But cocktail onions? Kind of makes your drink taste like a cheesesteak without the steak."

"Just have the drink without the damn onions then!" Requin snapped. "It's going to be your last."

"All the more reason to be picky!" Archer snapped. "Who was the **genius **who thought of putting onions in drinks in the first place? _Say, I want my drink to be bitter and give me bad breath? What can I put in to achieve that?" _

"I'm just going to shoot you now," Requin sighed as he prepared to shoot.

That was when Archer threw the cocktail onion jar at Requin's head fast and hard. The second it did, it stunned him long enough for Archer to give him a hard kick off of the balcony.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Requin screamed as he fell.

"What do you know?" Archer mused. "Cocktail onions **do **have their uses!"

"OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!" Requin screamed as he hit the craggy cliff several times as he fell. "OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW! OW!"

"Would not want to be **that guy**," Archer winced as he watched Requin fell. "Whoever he was."

FLASHFORWARD!

"I broke both my legs," Requin snarled. "My left arm, three fingers on my right hand, my nose, two toes, and three ribs! Bruised my pelvic bone. Nearly drowned and eaten by a shark when I hit the ocean. Yes, I am aware of the **irony!** And it turns out I had some kind of tumor on my left breast but fortunately it was benign. But it still gave me a damn hard scare!"

"Breast cancer is a bitch," Pam nodded. "And more men get it than you think."

"Archer had that," Cyril agreed. "Of course, he survived it. Typical."

"The only thing that got me through four agonizing years of surgeries and rehab is the thought of killing Sterling Archer!" Requin snarled.

"_Four years?"_ Krieger did a double take. "I thought you said you last tangled with Archer six years ago?"

"I did," Requin said. "I have a lot of people on my kill list! Is that _okay_ with you? Archer is Number Five with a bullet! And that is not just a pun!"

"Who were Numbers One through Four?" Pam asked.

"In order," Requin counted. "My health insurance agent who refused to cover my injuries. Seriously, I got the worst health plan imaginable."

"I know how you feel," Ray groaned.

"The CEO of the insurance agency that was supposed to cover me but didn't," Requin added. "That guy was a crook. He was skimming money and stealing pensions left and right."

"Good for you," Pam said.

"My old rival The Flamingo," Requin went on. "Who just happened to be working for the CEO for some reason. Didn't really ask. Technically he was Number Seven on my list but I figured…?"

"Why not kill two dicks with one bullet?" Cheryl suggested.

"Five bullets and a chandelier actually," Requin shrugged. "That was a very productive day."

"Who was Number Four?" Pam asked.

"My dry cleaner who overcharged me," Requin snapped. "And never got the stains out! He was the hardest of all of them. He was actually packing heat and a decent shot. Took me half a year to recover from the gunshot wounds he gave me!"

"Well no wonder it took so long," Krieger remarked.

"Tell me about it," Requin groaned. "Of course, I had even more problems with my health insurance but that's a whole different story I don't want to get into right now."

"Wait I've heard of you," Ray realized. "Aren't you the guy who shot **himself **during an assassination?"

"The man was in this weird bullet proof room and when the bullet passed through his body it bounced off the walls!" Requin snapped. "Doesn't count!"

"And aren't you the guy who tried to blow up some bridge in Brussels but set himself on fire?" Krieger realized.

"Those explosives were faulty!" Requin snarled.

"And didn't you once get hit by lightning while trying to assassinate some diplomat?" Ray realized.

"I admit **that one** was my mistake," Requin groaned. "Never try to assassinate someone in a thunderstorm on a golf course. While carrying a metal club."

"Oh, you're **that** Deadly Shark," Krieger groaned.

"This guy is even more accident prone than Brett," Ray groaned.

"So what?" Pam asked. "We just sit around waiting for somebody to shoot him?"

"That's just sloppy writing," Cheryl remarked.

"WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE NOT TREMBLING WITH TERROR?" Requin shouted. "Why are you so casual about being gassed and tied up and possibly killed?"

"You are not the first guy to take us hostage," Ray explained.

"We're kind of used to it by now," Pam nodded.

"It is an overused plot device," Cheryl said. "You would think the writers would have a little more imagination."

"What?" Requin asked.

"She thinks we're in a TV show," Pam explained. "Just ignore her."

"Look," Requin grumbled. "Clearly you people don't understand the core concept here so I will spell it out."

"Please do," Cheryl said. "I don't pay attention a lot of the time."

Requin sighed. "I'm going to use you people as hostages to force Sterling Archer to duel me. Where I will kill him. Got it?"

"Good luck with that," Pam said. "He's in a **coma."**

_"What?"_ Requin snapped. "Since **when**?"

"Since…" Cyril paused. "What? Four months ago? Or is it five?"

"I think it's four and a half," Cheryl said. "But time frames have always been a little fluid on this show. I'm just guessing here."

"Plus, we've been drunk a lot," Pam added. "Our sense of time is a tad fuzzy."

"Woodhouse's funeral was almost three months exactly since he was in the coma so…" Ray thought. "I think it has been at least five and half months. No wait...It will be six in a couple of days."

"Archer's been in a coma for almost six months?" Pam gasped.

"_That long?"_ Cyril was stunned. "Wow. I mean I didn't think it was **that long.** Wow time does fly doesn't it?"

"It really does," Krieger nodded.

"You expect me to believe that?" Requin snapped.

"Go online," Pam sighed. "Google Veronica Deane Pool Shooting."

"I heard about that," Requin took out his phone and looked at it. "I heard she shot some guy and left him in her…O-kay. Huh."

"Yup," Pam nodded.

"So, he really **did **get shot by this actress who not only slept with him…?" Requin blinked. "But murdered her husband and was involved in a multi-billion insurance fraud scheme? Wow!"

"And he's **still **the coma," Cheryl added. "Milking it!"

"Do you want his room number?" Cyril suggested. "It's…"

"Cyril!" Ray snapped. "Quiet game!"

"So, this has been for **nothing?**" Requin groaned. "I **knew **I should have kept up with my e-mails while in the hospital."

"You could still go to Archer's hospital room and blow his brains out," Cyril suggested cheerfully.

"CYRIL!" Pam and Ray shouted as one.

"What? He's not wrong!" Cheryl added. "Go on! Blow him up! That will teach him to drag out this stupid coma! Even Dallas quit after one season!"

"Again, his room number is…" Cyril began.

"CYRIL!" Pam and Ray shouted. "SHUT UP!"

"Well what's the point of killing your enemy if he doesn't know you **did it**?" Requin snapped. "Damn it. There's no point in holding you hostage or killing you either. Since half of you seem to **want **him to die!"

Everyone looked at Krieger. "Honestly I could go either way," Krieger shrugged. "I mean I like the guy. But then again working on his corpse would be an amazing opportunity."

"Okay that's too creepy even for me," Requin sighed. "Look I'm gonna let you guys go. I have a lot of other people I need to kill and I don't want to waste the bullets. Is it me or have they gotten more expensive over the years?"

"It's not just you," Krieger shook his head.

"You could always strangle us!" Cheryl said cheerfully.

"CHERYL!" Everyone else shouted.

"SHUT UP YOU CRAZY BITCH!" Cyril shouted.

"Yeah…No," Requin sighed. "Look if Archer **does** wake up…"

"He'll rue the day he crossed your path," Ray sighed. "Terrible death. Vengeance will be yours. Yada, yada, yada. We'll give him the message."

"Not like you're the first," Pam sighed as Requin cut them loose.

"Do you want my e-mail address so I can let you know…?" Cyril asked.

"Actually, that is a good idea," Requin remarked.

"Let me give you my business card," Cyril stood up and took one out of his pocket. "We are also happy to do any other investigations if you like."

_"Seriously?"_ Pam asked.

"We need the business Pam!" Cyril snapped. "What? All of the sudden you're picky?"

"Good point," Pam frowned. "I can do some commercial driving if you want."

"Uh I'll keep that in mind," Requin blinked.

"Here are some blank cards," Ray took some out from a desk drawer. "You can write your death threat on one of these. When Archer wakes up, he can read it."

"Trust me," Cyril said. "We'll make sure he does."

"How thoughtful," Requin took the cards. "I'm not the first who's done this am I?"

"No," Ray sighed. "You are not."

"We got five cards from Barry alone," Pam remarked. "Got one from Slater. Conway Stern sent one. Alan Shapiro managed to send one. Some people from ODIN. Some former co-workers from our old spy agency. A bunch of guys from the Yakuza. And the KGB."

"And a couple hate postcards from some pirates in the South Pacific," Ray added. "Bucky really holds a grudge. Not to mention his boyfriend who Archer shot in the leg."

"And of course, several owners of bars and strip joints Archer owes money to," Pam added. "And one really angry cordwainer."

"I wrote one," Cyril grinned. "Very therapeutic."

"Me too," Cheryl nodded. "What? It's the polite thing to do!"

"I think I'm going to write one," Ray remarked.

"Me too," Krieger nodded.

"I'm doing the scrapbooking of everything he missed," Pam told them. "Eh, I might as well write one too."

"Why do I get the feeling that you people torture Archer more than I do?" Requin blinked.

"Not as much as we'd like," Cyril sighed. "Then again there's always the hope that he'll die in the coma!"

"Such a cheerful little man you are," Requin groaned. He picked a card and took a pen from Cyril. "Archer, hoping to stand over your wretched corpse and spit on your grave. Looking forward to seeing you in Hell. Your enemy, Le Requin. The Deadly Shark!"

"We'll put it in the pile," Pam said as Requin sealed the card in the envelope.

"I'm going to go now," Requin said. "Places to go people to kill. Uh, fear the Deadly Shark."

"Bye Mr. Deadly Shark!" Cheryl waved. "Have a nice day! Wait is there a Mrs. Deadly Shark?"

"If there isn't…" Pam's eyes widened.

"Gotta go!" Requin ran out of the building.

"Well that was an interesting morning," Cheryl remarked. "No blood or violence though which is such a bummer."

"Maybe next time?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"One can always hope," Cheryl sighed wistfully.

SCREEECH!

"What the hell was **that?**" Cyril did a double take.

"It sounded like it came from outside," Krieger went to the window. "There's an accident in front of our building!"

"What happened?" Pam gasped.

"Mr. Deadly Shark just got hit by a bus," Ray said as he looked out the window. "Wow they really should put a stop sign on that corner."

"Is he dead?" Pam asked.

"Uh there's blood all over the place and that front tire is over his head," Ray winced. "Yeah. He's a goner. Hit by a bus saying Shark Bus Lines. Now **that's** irony!"

"So, no chance of this guy being a recurring character?" Cheryl asked.

"Honestly it would be a bit redundant if he was," Krieger explained. "We already had a Brett."

"So much for networking," Cyril groaned.


End file.
